Filbert
by x Rajah x
Summary: During those days, who was there for Anakin when no one else was? Well, during those days, it was only Filbert and Darth Vader. Darth Vader and Filbert... proof that best friends come in all shapes, sizes, and species... ON HIATUS!
1. Introduction

Title: Filbert

Genre: Humor

Summary: During those days, who was there for Anakin when no one else was? Well, during those days, it was only Filbert and Darth Vader. Darth Vader and Filbert... proof that best friends come in all shapes, sizes, and species...

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Curious? Gather 'round, younglings. I have a story to tell. Anakin, devastated after the events of a certain movie you know as Episode III, was a surly and depressed individual. It is with hesitation that I delve deep into such agony, for this story is not at all meant to be a tragedy. It is a method of looking back upon Anakin and Filbert's splendid relationship while it lasted, and of making Filbert live on forever.

Rumor has it, friends, that in his pain and despair, the newly minted Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, turned to drowning his emotions by consuming alcohol...

And that's where the story begins...

The black-clad Sith Lord stared ruefully at the figure in the doorway.

"I just don't understand you, Lord Vader. Get over it! I mean, you're a flippin Sith Lord! I mean, you wife dies and you can't just suck it up?"

With a small nod, Vader finally spoke. "How would you know anything about grief? You sit around all day in your big poufy chair munching those Force-forsaken Fritos and giggling while watching Oprah re-runs! The only thing you've ever cried over was that one time when the lady at the scary black cloak store gave you a senior citizen discount..." Vader paused. "Were you too stupid to realize that you should also be happy about that? You saved credits!"

Emperor Palpatine, looked thoroughly displeased, wrinkled his already-wrinkled brow and glared at his apprentice. That meant that he had wrinkles within his other wrinkles.

"Watch your tongue, Lord Vader... wait or is that burned off now?" he spat.

Vader scowled. "Go away, old man... your powers are weak..." he murmured strangely. He reached mournfully for a crystal wine glass.

"And if you were at all smart, my apprentice, you'd _use _your emotion to make you powerful, instead of wallowing here in your egg-shaped prison!"

Vader was no longer listening. He had removed his mask and was in the process of pouring himself a full glass of blood-red Alderaanian wine.

Emperor Palpatine, in quite a huff, turned on his well-hidden heels and marched out, fuming.

Vader stuck his tongue out at the door as it slammed shut. "I do have one, and I might as well use it!" He retorted at no one in particular.

As a sad sigh escaped his system, Darth Vader dumped himself back into his chair, taking a swig of his drink.

Swallowing, he looked down at the well-polished goblet held within his thick gloved mechanical hand. Padmé had given him this particular one for his Life Day one year.

Remembering, he set the glass down, saddened.

Then, he got to thinking. Padmé would have wanted him to move on with his life, but how could he, when he found himself trapped inside a thick-walled prison cell of his own making?

The Dark Side was grim, yes. But surely he could find some way to bring himself out of his free fall?

A knock sounded upon the door, or rather the outer shell of his "egg". Pressing the button that opened the chamber, Darth Vader made sure that his mask was properly in place upon his face once more.

Outside stood a woman, one he instantly recognized.

"Patrice." Vader said, hiding his disappointment. "What a... surprise."

Patrice's overly huge mouth spread into a sickeningly sweet smile. "VADEY!" she squealed, clambering in beside him.

Moaning, Vader protested, but Patrice was deaf to his indignant requests to leave. The chamber became very cramped and uncomfortable.

Patrice, now nearly seated on top of Vader, breathed softly, still smiling widely. "Palps tells me you're blue, baby. And I know just what to do to help!"

_No you don't! _Vader thought.

Patrice, still excitedly announcing her plan to cheer him up, reached around his big, awkward bulky suit to encompass him in a hug. "Let's go home, darling, and I'll make some food..."

Vader scowled inside his mask, cursing his Master for the billionth time. Sidious has placed him within a very nice space, one of the largest rooms aboard the Star Destroyer, which he unfortunately he to share with the Emperor's dear friend, Patrice.

Patrice, needless to say, had seemed ecstatic at the idea, and, he had noticed, had seemed to view their relationship as much more than forced roommates.

Vader pushed Patrice away, picking up the wine glass and absently twirling it in his fingers. "Patrice, not that I don't appreciate what you are trying to do, all you are doing now is giving me a migraine."

Patrice, undaunted, replied. "I have Tylenol in my purse!" She began to reach from the bag upon her shoulder.

"So do I." Vader muttered, just wishing she would go.

"You have a purse?"

"NO!" Vader hollered. "Of course I DON'T!" If Sith Lords could blush, Vader was surely doing it at that very moment. In a rage, he continued. "GET OUT OF MY EGG!"

Patrice shrugged. "Well, I'll be in the room, if you change your mind, Darthy Boy."

Vader silently shot daggers at her with his eyes as she retreated, blowing him a kiss.

There was evil in that girl. And not a Sithly evil. Another type Vader didn't recognize, and wouldn't until years later...

Relieved to hear the sound of the door slamming behind Patrice, he sighed again, gazed once more at the glass he still held in his hand.

Then, Vader got an idea. A wonderful idea. A perfect idea. Darth Vader got a wonderful, perfect idea!

"The Grinch got a wonderful... awful idea."

"I hate the Grinch." Vader told himself, turning off the holovid that had randomly turned on inside his chamber. "It just interrupted my train of thought... now where was I?...ahhhhhh! I have an idea!"

A lightbulb shone brightly above Vader's head. Scowling, he turned it off. _My Master could learn a thing or two about energy conservation... this light does not need to be on during the day!_

Stepping out of the "egg," and striding purposefully down the hallway, Vader amended. _Or night... the halls are so quiet... everyone's asleep so it must be night._

"HOW IN THE NINE CORELLIAN HELLS ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT TIME OF DAY IT IS WHEN WE'RE FLOATING USELESSLY IN SPACE EVERY SECOND OF OUR LIVES!" Vader yelled, his voice booming. He turned swiftly upon the viewport. "STARS, STARS STARS! ALL I EVER SEE IS STUPID STARS WHIZZING BY! AND THEN THOSE RETARDED YELLOW LETTERS THAT HIT OUR WINDSHIELD, BUT THOSE DON'T COUNT!"

Silence answered the troubled Sith Lord.

"Force..." Vader wheezed, trying to catch his breath after his rant.

Then, straightening, he cursed loudly in Huttese. "WHY AM I YELLING AGAIN! OH YEAH! I HAD AN IDEA THAT I WOULD BUY MYSELF A PET AND THERE WAS A LIGHTBULB AND..."

Vader stopped, as he noticed a lone Imperial officer standing, leaning upon a ratty mop, his eyes as large as saucers.

"WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT?" Vader screamed.

The man remained completely still, paralyzed by his fear, and, unbeknownst to Vader, peeing his evergreen-colored pants.

Vader seemed to calm slightly, noticing the bucket of water. "Night shift, eh?"

The man dropped the mop and ran. "AHHHH MOMMYYYYY!"

Vader shrugged. "The nerve of some people. I mean I KNOW HE WAS A FREAKIN JANITOR TYPE GUY BUT HOW DARE HE MOP IN MY PRESENCE?"

No one answered. Vader, realizing he was screaming at no one, quieted. _What am I doing? What would Padmé think if she saw me now?_

A cartoony image of his beautiful deceased wife popped into his mind, her eyes bugging out quite like the man's who had just exited.

_She would question my mental health. _Vader thought, half ruefully, half amusedly.

_Would she be right to?_

Vader shook his masked head in shame, and began to walk back toward the hall where he and Patrice's room was.

He distractedly noticed he was still holding the wine glass. Then, randomly, the Sith burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

It boomed and echoed around the ship and Vader's free hand clutched at his side.

But then, it happened.

Vader, deliriously chuckling, stepped into a puddle of water (or so he thought) left by the janitor.

"MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA...WHOOP!" With a thud, Vader landed on his backside.

Groaning, he sat up slowly, reminding himself that the plus side of having a mostly artificial body was that he felt virtually no pain.

But, he was saddened to discover that before him, shards of broken glass were strewn everywhere.

But then, a glimmer caught his eye. Reaching forward, Vader picked up a piece of the shattered cup.

This jagged section had a distinct texture and shape. And as Vader looked at it, he received another idea that would set into motion a chain of events that would ultimately change his life forever.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Upon that piece of glass, a perfect row of designs caught Vader's eye. There, depicted upon a broken goblet, was his future.

What was on it, you ask?

A small group of little creatures from the family _Rana _stared back at Vader.

Vader thought excitedly. _Force, I'm getting a frog!_

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I must tell you, Patrice was none too pleased with Vader's idea of getting a pet frog. But as it turns out, she couldn't do a thing to stop him.

Vader began buying frogs in succession, replacing ones that would die with others. And he grew to like having frogs.

His first frog was appropriately named Padmé Reincarnated. And, according to legend, and Vader himself, this name was not only given as a way of paying homage to Vader's beloved former wife... there has been speculation that the spirit of Padmé lived on within the little green body of Vader's pet frog.

Assuming those speculations aren't false, we continue the story. Padmé, as lovely and Senator-like as she was, did not live forever. Soon, Vader was faced with her passing, upon which the spirit of his dead wife was once again reborn... in the form of a garage door handle.

Vader was extremely grieved, naturally, but soon picked out a new best friend.

This frog, he named Gravity.

Gravity was not the smartest of frogs. And it is rumored also that Gravity and Vader's bond was not nearly as strong as those that he shared with other frogs.

A few months after Gravity entered Vader's life, he exited while the two were on a vacation on Naboo. He was hit by an air taxi.

Vader, observing from his spot by the lake, mused. "Ohhuup. There goes Gravity."

And Vader hated Eminem, namely rap songs in general.

Next in line were two lively young frogs, Joe Bob and Mindy. Joe Bob and Mindy, like all of Vader's previous frogs, annoyed the hell out of  
Patrice, being mischievous little animals. Vader didn't mind the payback.

But he only owned Joe Bob and Mindy for about three weeks. You see, Patrice had a stupid obsession with orange soda. In a rapid craving, Patrice desperately sold Joe Bob and Mindy on Ebay to a biology teacher, gaining the $2 she needed to run down to the drugstore on Coruscant and buy herself a can. I told you she was evil, didn't I? Just you wait...

Vader, still impervious to the bad luck he was having with his new pets, moved on, next buying the one frog that would change his life and that he would love unconditionally as a best friend.

You guessed it: Filbert.

Now that you know Filbert's beginning, sadly, I must tell you of his end. And then, may this story become a puzzle, each chapter filling in the spaces between each event and hopefully making a Filbert fan out of you yet!

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Now begins the evil of Patrice. I never liked that woman...

Patrice's eyes rested upon the place where Filbert sat, quietly watching a show on the Discovery Channel about sheep. Filbert had a soft spot for sheep...

Jealousy filled Patrice as she thought of the attention "Vadey" gave to Filbert. Attention she craved so! Filbert and Vader had formed such a bond that Vader even allowed the small talking creature to call him "Anakin". No one else was allowed to do it! No one but the pitful animal that lay before her eyes.

A plan already coming into being within her twisted mind, Patrice leapt into the room, pouncing upon the frog.

An unsuspecting Filbert was hurried away from the holovid screen.

Never to be seen alive again...

Anakin walked in, cheerily humming some song he'd learned from Filbert. However he was slightly concerned as he saw that the show about sheep remained flashing on the screen, but Filbert was nowhere in sight.

Filled with dread, Anakin sprinted for the bathroom, following his senses.

There, he found a sheepish-looking Patrice, wiping her hands off and smiling... again.

Filbert was dead. Flushed alive.

The evil of Patrice was revealed, and in an agonized howl, Anakin fell to his knees.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! FILLLLLLLLLLBBBBBBBBBBBEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRTTTTTTTT!"

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Don't be too saddened, kind folks. For the spirit of Filbert lives on within the cotton stuffing of a stuffed animal and within this story. And hopefully soon... he will live in your heart as well.

From this point forth, I shall fill in the blanks that you no doubt have in mind, and each chapter of this story shall recount a different event in the relationship between Anakin and Filbert.

Brace yourselves.

One day...


	2. Spongepainting The Kitchen

What great support! Here are replies for the reviews I received!

**Little Author:** I'm so glad. And maybe your yearning for Eugene the Frog will help you to fall in love with Filbert the Frog! Thank you!

**wolfwhspers:** Your words brought me smiles. That's exactly the review I could've hoped for.

**I am Filbert's #1 Fan: **Filbert appreciates the support. Your review kinda stood out, ya know? Heehee. Enjoy.

**Jedi Knight 13: **You may see this as a low, but I think it's the greatest thing that could happen to Vader. Maybe I'll change your mind! Thanks.

**JediDaughter1: **Do you read all my stories? Geesh. I'm so grateful for your support! Glad you liked it, and I hope you shall continue to love it!

**xkalx: **Good! Thanks!

Henceforth, readers, you shall be known as... just kidding.

But seriously, henceforth, imagine that each chapter title begins with "One Day" in case the chapter doesn't. You'll get it.

**One day, Filbert and Anakin decided to sponge paint the kitchen.**

"I've been thinking..." Anakin began, leaning back slightly in his chair. Filbert and Patrice looked up from their sections of the newspaper that was scattered all over the kitchen table.

"What?" Patrice almost cooed.

"I want to sponge paint the kitchen." Anakin said decidedly. Filbert smiled.

"That's a great idea!" Filbert agreed. "What color, Anakin?"

Patrice's eyes darkened as Filbert referred to him as Anakin. Since when was he allowed to? Speaking up, she smiled sweetly and said, "I think pink would be nice, Anakin."

Anakin's helmeted head swiveled in her direction. "Patrice, how MANY TIMES must I tell you NEVER. CALL. ME. ANAKIN!"

Patrice nodded moodily. "Yeah, sure."

Filbert looked thoughtful. "How about green?"

Patrice stood up. "No! You just want green to be the color because you're a frog!"

Anakin eyed Patrice, ready to defend Filbert. "No, green's a good idea. Much better than pink. And all this..." he gestured around at the walls, which were dingy gray, and had black trim along the floorboards. "...is making me gloomy."

Patrice sat down with a 'humph'. "Why not bubblegum pink? That's cheery and bright!"

"And stupid." Anakin murmured. "What loser paints their kitchen pink?" Then with a laugh, he added. "Your mom, that's who." Quietly of course.

"My mom's kitchen was pink, actually." Patrice said, trying to remain calm. "And the only reason you don't want pink is because you're a guy."

"Well, I'd say you're outnumbered then." Anakin said, Patrice imagining a cocky grin underneath his mask.

"What?" she asked coolly.

"Filbert and I outnumber you as the guys that use this kitchen, so we get to choose." Anakin stated simply.

Patrice leapt out of her chair. "NO! THAT'S NOT FAIR! THE FROG DOESN'T COUNT!"

Anakin rose as well. "HE SURE AS HELL DOES!"

Patrice's frown deepened. "VADER, HE'S A FROG, NOT A HUMAN BEING. HE SHOULDN'T EVEN BE TALKING!"

"AND NEITHER SHOULD YOU, BECAUSE I GET A HEADACHE EVERY TIME YOU DO!" Anakin shouted back.

Filbert, watching this exchange with concern, intervened. "Hey, guys, let's settle this in another way..."

Anakin sat down immediately. "Filbert's right."

Patrice remained standing. "No, he's not. I'm sick of his peace-loving ways. I'm sick of his green froggyness! I am sick of you ALWAYS defending him and always siding with him!"

Anakin replied simply. "Basically because he's right and you're wrong, Patrice."

Patrice stamped her foot. "I refuse to let you sponge paint the kitchen! Sponge paint is stupid anyway."

Anakin stood up again, appalled. "Sponge painting is the SHIZZLE, Patrice."

Patrice growled. "I beg to differ."

She sat down, practically snorting the orange soda that sat beside her in rage.

Filbert grimaced in disgust.

"C'mon, Filbert." Anakin announced, offering the frog his shoulder. "Let's go get some paint and some rollers at the paint store."

Patrice smiled peevishly. "Good luck finding a way to get paint when we're FLOATING IN SPACE!"

Anakin pointed a black gloved finger at her. "Just you wait."

The Imperial group manning the main command and control center were astonished when Darth Vader entered, striding purposefully up to the forst officer he could find. Turns out, it was Captain Needa.

"Captain Needa, inform those petty puny-minded folks down there controlling this hulking piece of crap that they are to pull a fast 180 and hightail it back to Coruscant before high noon!"

Needa, startled, spluttered. "I...you...but- he" He glanced quizzically at the little green creature that sat upon Vader's shoulder. "Uhhhhh."

Anakin eyed Needa. "Is there a problem?" His voice basically told Needa that there BETTER not be a problem.

Needa looked fearfully into the eyepieces of the mask. "Forgive me, my lord, but I do not believe this ship could make it to Coruscant before supper."

Anakin put crossed his arms in front of him. "It better darn well make it to Coruscant and you better darn well like it, Lorth Needa."

Needa nodded quickly. "Yes sir. Of course, sir... but ahhhhhh... we need the Emperor's approval to alter our course!"

"Crap." Anakin stated. "Why? You must know that disobeying me will result in your death."

Needa took a chance by stating boldly. "And you must know that you not getting the Emperor's permission will result in YOUR punishment."

Thinking a moment, Anakin nodded. "You've got a point."

"And Patrice would be there." Needa goaded gently.

Anakin shuddered. "I'm trying to escape her for a few hours... I'll be back, Needa. I'll convince him... somehow."

Anakin stalked off.

Filbert spoke up. "How do you plan to pull this one off, Anakin? You must have a plan."

"I actually do." Anakin said proudly.

"What is it then?" Filbert wondered.

"First I'll... well, I'll say... then I'll... ugghhh..." Anakin sighed. "I got nothing, Filbs, any ideas?"

"Sorry, Anakin. But you know how much your Master hates me. He'll NEVER listen to me."

Anakin smiled. "How could anyone hate you, Filbert?"

Filbert shrugged, just as Anakin came upon the door to Emperor Palpatine's quarters. He knocked timidly.

"Come in, outsider."

Anakin pushed the door open, and scrambled with difficulty through a beaded curtain. "Ummm... Master?"

"VADER! Come in!" Palpatine sat on the couch, Oprah blasting from his holovid. "How may I be of assistance?"

"Yes, actually, um, my Master, I am seeking your permission to head for Coruscant."

Palpatine's wrinkled brows lifted, scrunching his face up like a prune. "May I ask why, my apprentice?"

Anakin fumbled with words for a moment in his mind. "I would like to seek the purchase of some items on the planet, Master."

Palpatine eyed Anakin for several long seconds, and Anakin thought he was going to ask what those items were. Finally, he just smiled that sickly smile. "I give you permission, Lord Vader... on two conditions."

Anakin groaned inwardly. "What do you want, my Lord?"

"You will buy me some more toilet paper down there, I'm fresh out."

Anakin smirked uncomfortably. "Whatever you wish."

"And!" Palpatine said triumphantly. "You will accompany me to a gala next week to meet with members of that darned Imperial Senate..."

"Yes, my Master." Anakin said, though he hated such gatherings.

"You may go, then." Palpatine said, handing him a slip of paper telling the crew to turn around. "And hurry back, I'll miss ya."

"Uhhhhh..." Anakin said, unsure how to respond.

"LOL!" The Emperor yelled. "You should have seen to the look on your face... errr... mask."

Anakin started to back away. "But if I have a mask how did you see..."

"OMG! Shut yer trap, commercial break's over!" Palpatine yelled. "I mean I LYLAS, Vader, but you really G2G now!"

Anakin, getting afraid, and feeling Filbert's unease, began to leave, but had to ask. "Ummm, Master? You love me like a sister?"

Emperor Palpatine cackled. "LOL! JK!"

Anakin ran.

"TTYL!" Palpatine called after him. Then turning to the TV, he spoke. "BRB, Oprah, nature calls."

But soon, he found himself in quite the situation. "OMG! Vader better hurry the freak up with that toilet paper!"

Anakin, meanwhile, had regained his breath after running down the corridor away from his Master and now presented Captain Needa with eh slip of paper.

"Here, teacher, here's my permission slip. I can go on the field trip." Vader said sarcastically.

Later that night, Anakin stood atop a ladder rolling a paint roller across the dim gray walls, as Filbert used a children's paintbrush to help.

The color was a beautiful minty tea green.

"It looks like boogers." Patrice commented, sulking on the couch.

"YOU look like boogers." Anakin replied.


End file.
